


Living in Closets

by artisturtle



Series: Her Midnights, Her Mornings [3]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Closets, F/F, I Just Wrote This for Less Than An Hour Do Not Expect Too Much, Metaphorical, Sort of A Study, SuperCorp Sunday, Supercorp Ficnette #3, Supercorp Study, season changes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 18:01:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30025716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artisturtle/pseuds/artisturtle
Summary: All her life, the closet is the only home she's known.
Relationships: Kara Danvers & Lena Luthor
Series: Her Midnights, Her Mornings [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2207067
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Living in Closets

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Here's Supercorp Vignette #3. It's more like a metaphorical study or something. I don't really know what this is but I hope you enjoy it!

All her life, she’s lived in a closet.

It’s a tiny, cramped space filled with everything she’s ever had. There are trinkets and treasures she’s accrued all over the years: there’s a chess set missing a queen, a broken ocarina her half-brother had given her the day she met him, the pen she stole from her father, and the first doll her step-mother had broken in front of her.

Later on, the closet starts filling up with some more things -- smiles and secrets and skeletons.

She sleeps on the carpeted floor, watching the world outside her home through horizontal louver slats. The slats have a view of an open window so she could sneak peeks at the world outside. Sometimes she wishes she could step out of the closet to enjoy the sunshine licking through the treetops and hear the birds sing, but her feet only know this carpeted floor and her eyes are well-adjusted to the dark.

The girl’s arrival is unannounced. She comes into her room on a gold-filled summer afternoon - the sky blue lined with a few clouds, soft and cottony.

It’s funny because she thinks the girl didn’t walk into the room at four that afternoon. The girl literally pirouettes into the four-cornered space, her shoes scuffling against the polished hardwood floor. 

Her hair is a flood of gold threads trailing behind her.

Through the closet door, she watches her with interested eyes -- her mouth never making a sound and her vision holding her in high regard. She looks at the girl the way gazelles look at a lion -- always at a respectable distance.

Every day, she watches as the girl practices dance. It’s always like that -- she holds herself close to the closet door, uneven-colored eyes peering through the wooden slats -- and the girl with the hair of golden corn dances her heart out.

There’s always the closet door between them.

Summer turns into fall. It’s fairly colder now that winter is just around the corner. She spends the day waiting for the girl and the girl never fails her patience. She always shows up at four in the afternoon. She’d set her bags on one side of the empty room and start dancing without music.

The fall colors start turning to pewter-gray by the end of November. The girl still arrives at exactly four o’clock. She’d still watch her through the closet door with distant reverence. Her yearning to get out of the home she’s known her entire life is growing bigger and bigger each passing day.

One winter morning, almost close to the holidays, she’s surprised to see the girl walk into the room and make a beeline straight to the closet. It sends her mind into haywire, scrambling to get away from the closet door as far as possible, burrowing herself into suits and coats, and trying to make sure she’s never seen.

The girl stops short, just a few inches from the closet.

“I know you’re in here,” she says in a whisper. “I know you’ve been watching me the whole time since summer started. Are you shy?”

She doesn’t answer. Instead, she tries to hold her breath.

“I would like to ask you out for coffee,” the girl says as she shyly looks at her feet. “Or a walk in the wintry sunshine at the park. The first snows have fallen last night, you know. If you allow it to be, I’d like to walk with you on it. If that is alright with you, I mean.”

She’s never seen snow.

All her life, she only knew of dust and darkness and the musty smell of the closet. Shuffling close to the door, she unlocks it, and she lets the door crack open to let the draft and the sunshine inside. Behind the closet door, a pair of blue eyes stare at her.

“Hi,” the blue-eyed girl grins at her. She pulls a lock of golden hair behind her ear. “Have you been here long?”

It takes her a moment to finally compose herself and come up with an answer. “All my life.”

The blonde’s pretty face falls and she thought that maybe the blonde’s mind had changed, but the golden-haired girl lifts her blue eyes at her once again and there’s a hint of understanding in those ocean eyes. 

“I’m Kara. Do you have a name?”

Brushing her dark hair out of her eyes, she shyly smiles at the girl. “I’m Lena.”

“Will it be alright if I take you out for a walk?” Kara asks as she holds a trembling hand to reach into the closet, and Lena nods in affirmation. It takes her a few more seconds, but she finally manages to lay her hand on top of Kara’s.

Kara sighs in relief. Then, she leads Lena out of the closet and into the wintry sunshine.

The light is so bright that it’s blinding. The air is freezing and the snow is cold, but the sunlight is warm in her cheeks and so is the hand holding hers as they walk through the world outside and it fills Lena’s heart with something powerful like conviction and something certain like winter seasons.

 **_The closet was never her home_**.

**(#)**

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this. Follow me on Twitter @artisturtle!


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